Beyond Enemy Lines
by Razzy
Summary: AU: Civil War. Erik Black is a disfigured Southern soldier, sworn to protect the talented Christine Day. But when circumstances divide them across the shattered nation, what becomes of true love?
1. A Texas Hospital

**November, 1847**

Sixteen year old Private Erik Black moaned in his darkness, emitting a throaty sound of agony. His eyes were tightly closed, and yet he continued to see the flames that had driven him from the world of the living. Surely he had now entered some kind of realm that hovered between life and death, thrown from the battlefield by an explosion of cannon fire – fire that haunted him still. He was hardly aware of how much time had lapsed since his injury – his last memories were of mid September, of the battle for Mexico City itself.

Now he found himself fading in and out of consciousness in a southern Texan hospital. When sight came to him, he found that only one eye granted him vision, the other was wrapped in bandages. Erik understood that his injuries had been grave, and yet he had managed to retain all of his limbs as well as his life. There was a chance he would loose his right eye, and he knew he was being overcome by a raging fever. Still he fought for life, unwilling to pass into the realm of eternal darkness.

A voice spoke to him softly in his fitful rest, soothing his inflamed mind. Her distant voice reminded him of his mother, who had died when he was only seven years old. His father had died before he was born, and his mother had been gifted with enough good sense to send Erik to a carpentry shop to learn a trade at a young age. When she passed away from fever, Erik had remained a carpenter, growing fond of his work. When he was fifteen, Erik set out to join the military, willing to serve for a two year term. And this is where it had left him – wounded and dying in a hospital that seemed impossibly far from his hometown of Augusta, Georgia.

And what of Lucy?

Dimly, Erik thought of his sweetheart back home. She had agreed to marry him one day, and promised to wait for his return. He had once been quite handsome: his skin was tan, his eyes a peculiar shade of blue, and his hair was jet black. He usually kept his hair slicked back and well kept, and prided himself on being clean-shaven and maintaining a dignified appearance. He was quite reserved, and kept to himself as often as possible. Because he had been orphaned at such a young age, Erik had been unable to attend a proper school, and instead contented himself to reading whatever old discarded books he could afford from the local bookstore.

He was a brilliant young man. Erik had quickly learned arithmetic, able to make extraordinarily accurate measurements. He had also become quite talented at drafting, as well as learning the art of music. The boy was entirely self-taught, becoming unusually apt at learning to play the pianos he helped to carve from soft pine. Now he clung to life desperately, becoming increasingly dependant upon the soft, mother-like voice of the nurse who attended him.

One day, Erik felt consciousness at last return to him. The dim haze that had hung over his mind in previous returns to the world of the waking had faded. Erik was able to see clearly at last, and he looked around the sunlit room he was being held in. It was a private, two-patient room, which surprised him. Usually, soldiers were not held in such places, instead left to crowded hallways of the wounded. Perhaps he had been more ill than he first thought. A shadow passed into the room, and Erik struggled to get a view of the woman dressed in white.

"Nurse?" his usually toned voice was raspy from lack of use.

"You are awake!" Ah. So it was the woman who sounded so much like his mother. He watched as she came into view at last, seeing that she was quite different from the woman who had died ten years past. This woman had striking emerald green eyes and long, dark brown hair that hung in a braid over her shoulder.

"Thank you," the visible half of Erik's face softened to an expression of gratitude. The nurse nodded to him and placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

"It seems your fever broke sometime during the night." She nodded in approval as she reached to a table beside the bed.

"Who are you?" Erik winced as she placed a cloth dripping with cold water against the side of his face.

"My name is Anna Giry," she replied softly. "And who might you be?"

"They didn't tell you when I was brought here?"

"No. Several men were wounded in the explosion, and all of you were burned beyond recognition. There is a list of men you _could_ be, but your identity has been unknown for a little over a month now." She lightly touched the bandages over the right side of his face, and he felt a sharp pain from the contact. Burns…

"I am Private Erik Black. Pleased to meet you, ma'm." His breath came out in a hiss as she slowly began removing the cloth wrapped around his head.

"Your bandages must be changed, Erik." She spoke in a no-nonsense tone, not allowing any room for protest. Slowly she unwound the cloth, and Erik tried his best to bear the pain.

"You are still in no condition to leave," she answered his unspoken question. "You are a slow healer, my friend." Erik offered a weak smile. He had never been stricken ill in the past, indeed, he hadn't even caught the disease that killed his mother.

"I have never fallen ill before," he swallowed, becoming increasingly aware of his need for water. "Nurse Giry, might I have a bit of water please?" She nodded and moved away from him for a moment, returning with a small bowl.

"Lean your head forward," she instructed as she placed one hand behind his head for support. Part of him felt frustrated that he needed such assistance to merely take a drink, but he understood there was no other way. Once his thirst had been quenched, Erik leaned back again, simply wondering at the feeling of air reaching his wounded flesh.

"How bad is the burn, ma'm?" He watched as she slowly applied a small amount of lotion to her hand, and lightly touched it to his right cheek. He sucked in a breath at the pain, but did not cry out.

"It is severe," she answered shortly. "But I believe you will be able to regain use of your right eye once the swelling recedes." Erik closed his eyes in acknowledgement. It would most likely scar. He only hoped that his face was not too terribly marked from the incident, that he would still be appealing enough for his beloved Lucy.

And so the days continued to pass. Erik formed an odd sort of friendship with 24 year old Anna Giry. She was native to the state of Mississippi, but she had moved to Texas with her daughter in order to be of more use when her husband, Captain James Giry, enlisted in the army. She had been trained as a nurse, and she thought she could be closer to him by transferring to a Texan hospital. Her 4 year old daughter, Meg, shadowed her about wherever she went. Erik soon grew to become amused by the fair haired child that regarded him with the utmost curiosity the few times that Nurse Giry brought the child with her to his room.

"Do you know Daddy?" The child hovered at the edge of the bed, taking care to be on his left side. Erik regarded her for a moment, and then shook his head.

"I have heard of him," he replied. "Captain Giry is well respected among his men, and a fine soldier. But I do not know him personally." Meg beamed at him and quickly skittered out of the room to interrogate more soldiers about her father. Erik smiled faintly to himself. In the past few weeks, he had become more social than he ever remembered being in his life. He had quickly grown to trust Nurse Giry, and he felt an annoyed sort of amusement for her shy little girl. He could not remember anyone regarding him in such a non-judgmental way.

Back home, everyone was well aware of Erik's "tragic" situation. He had been quite unique – not being taken in by a Church based orphanage. Instead he was a working boy, perfectly polite, but very withdrawn. He was not particularly well liked, and when others dealt with him, they stuck strictly to being as polite as the situation called for. That was how he was treated – with politeness, never warmth.

Lucy had been different.

She was the daughter of a farmer, and she often stopped by on various errands in the town. The fiery red head had soon been taken with an insatiable curiosity about the reclusive carpenter boy, and they had soon grown accustomed to one another. They claimed to be in love, and Erik didn't know any better. Lucy had been his only friend, and perhaps he was in love with her. He was uncertain about the prospect of marriage, but she might be the only girl to ever accept the withdrawn carpenter.

He only hoped that she waited for his return.

**December, 1847**

The new month was marked by a fresh arrival to Erik's private room. He had soon learned that Nurse Giry insisted he be placed apart from the others for his health, and it was her continued suggestion he remain here, because she had soon realized his withdrawn nature. Erik was amazed by how quickly he befriended the distant nurse, and their friendship became almost teasing in nature.

When Captain Day arrived to the small room, he was in very poor condition. The man had received a blow to the stomach, and such wounds quite often proved to be fatal. Shockingly, he had managed to maintain a feeble grasp on life, and Nurse Giry thought his chances better in an airier, more private room.

"I do hope you aren't too put out by the fact you must share your space," Nurse Giry commented over her shoulder as she attended to the unconscious soldier. Erik only watched her curiously.

"What did you say his name was?"

"Captain Charles Day," she replied. Erik raised his eyebrow in vague recognition.

"I have fought alongside this man," he said slowly. "I served under him. He is a brave soldier. I hope he recovers."

"As do I," Nurse Giry straightened and studied the fitful man laying beneath her. "His daughter is here."

"His daughter?"

"Her name is Christine. She is only five years old, and her family has lived here for a few years. Her mother died not long ago, so a few members of the hospital staff have agreed to keep watch over her while her father is a patient."

"Would you happen to be one of those staff members?" Erik smirked. As cold and distant as Anna Giry pretended to be, he had grown to realize she was truly an extraordinarily compassionate woman. She cast a suspicious glance at him over her shoulder and looked away before answering.

"It just so happens that I am. I have a little girl around her age, if you recall. I think it best the children play together to pass the time."

"A hospital is a strange playground for children."

"My dear sir," Nurse Giry turned to face him and headed towards the door of the small room. "Unless you would like to volunteer responsibility for the little Day girl, I suggest you keep such opinions to yourself." With that, she tossed her braid over her shoulder and left Erik to his thoughts. He frowned in thought. Just what had she been so testy about?

"Sir?" A small voice pulled Erik out of his state of half sleep. He had still been unable to rest easily, and the remains of fever lingered over his healing body. He opened his cloudy blue eye and looked over at the child who was perched on the side of his bed. Her hands were lightly placed at the edge of his bed, her eyes impossibly large, the color of dark chocolate.

"Child?" he returned her questioning tone in the same manner. She tilted her head curiously, dark brown curls spilling over her small shoulders.

"You can wake up!" Her voice was almost musical in nature, and strangely crisp for such a small child. Erik's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Certainly I can wake up," he answered. "Why do you say such a thing?"

"Daddy won't wake up," she lowered her gaze sadly. Erik flicked a glance across the room, at the still form lying there. This must be the Day child.

"Christine?" He tested his theory.

"How do you know my name?"

"Your father told me about you, not long ago." He fixed the girl with the same curious expression she bestowed upon him. Her dark eyes lit up with an inner shine Erik had never seen before.

"Really? What did he say?" She smiled at him, glowing with the strange internal light.

"He said you were an angel," he replied quietly. Now he was able to understand why his commanding officer had said such a thing of the girl. She certainly looked like a heavenly being, just the sort of child that happily played about the very throne of God. He returned her smile, in spite of himself.

"Why Mistah Black," Nurse Giry's voice cut into his thoughts, and Erik's smile faded as he looked over at his friend. "I believe that is the first time I have ever seen you smile." Her bright eyes glinted playfully as she patted the top of Christine's head. "Child, I must attend to him now. Run along." The girl nodded, and with a lingering glance over her shoulder, she left the room. "You seem to have taken a shine to the girl." Nurse Giry looked at him curiously.

"I listened to her father speak of her, on long nights." He did not adopt any sort of defensive tone. He knew she was merely curious about his strange behavior of actually smiling. "Is it so odd to think that I am capable of emotions other than distant, cold politeness?" Now Nurse Giry smiled faintly.

"Perhaps not. I am well aware that you are not as cold and distant as you appear to be, although I was indeed surprised to see you speaking so kindly to the child. You are usually less patient with Meg's questions."

"Meg is a little…" he trailed off for a moment, searching for the proper words. "Insistent upon maintaining a conversation."

"She's too curious for her own good, you mean." The nurse laughed quietly as she changed his bandages. The pain was not as severe as time wore on, and she risked leaving his face exposed for hours at a time, just to breathe in the fresh air. The swelling had also receded considerably, and it would only be a matter of time until he would see if he retained vision in his right eye.

Two weeks passed, and Erik's hopes regarding the matter were realized. He was soon able to open both eyes, and found that his vision was just as sharp as it had ever been. He was quite thankful for such a situation, and he soon grew hopeful that he would be able to leave the hospital. He was soon able to rise and walk about the room, trying to regain the strength in his worn body. Several times he asked Nurse Giry for a mirror, to see just how extensive the damage to the right side of his face had been, but she insisted such a request was foolish.

One chilly morning, Erik watched little Christine perched in a chair beside her still unconscious father, drawing a picture.

"What are you drawing, child?" She regarded him for a moment, and then slowly looked down at the pad of paper in her hands. She looked uncomfortable, almost embarrassed.

"I am drawing an angel, sir," her voice was quiet, and she would not look up again. Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Is it in honor of Christmas?" The holiday was quickly approaching, although it was hard to tell in the solemn setting of the Texan hospital. Christine shook her head.

"No," she answered quietly. "I never liked Christmas."

"Why is that?" Erik was quite taken by surprise by her answer.

"Mama died last Christmas." His heart went out to the girl, so vibrant, but so touched by loss. This was the first time he had seen such sadness creep into her bright face. "And now Daddy will die soon too."

"Christine!" It was the first time he had used her name, and she snapped her head up to meet his gaze. Erik was unsure of what to say, only that he could not stand to see such innocence in pain. He did not want the child to become cold and distant, loosing her inner light, as he had. "Don't say such things."

"Adults like to pretend that nothing is wrong, because they think it won't make children sad." The girl made a haunting statement, her large brown eyes never leaving his. He wished fiercely that there was some comfort he could give. Although she doubtlessly counted him as one such adult, he knew he had scarcely passed from the world of childhood himself.

"I won't tell you that nothing is wrong, child," he kept his voice even and serious. "Your father is gravely wounded, and yes, he might die. But it won't do any good to think about his death unless it happens. Until then, you ought to be content that there is a chance he might live." He swallowed, praying the right words would come to him. "And Christmas is not about death, child. It is about new life. Whenever something passes away, something new and wonderful joins the world. I lost both my parents at a young age, but I discovered something within myself that allowed me to go on. So you see, it is simply part of life… to loose and to gain, it follows a strange cycle beyond our understanding."

"Before he went away to fight," Christine's voice was strangely distant, dreamlike. "Daddy promised me that an Angel would watch over me while he was gone. My very own angel! Is that what you mean? I have to loose my Daddy to gain an Angel?" Erik felt his heart breaking for the beautiful child across the room from him. What answer could he give?

"Yes, child," he replied at last. "And if you are right, if your father never leaves this room, I swear to you that _I_ will be that angel." He scarcely knew what he was saying, making such an oath. How could he, an unmarried, wounded, 16 year old carpenter's apprentice hope to care for a five year old girl? "I give you my word, I will always protect you." The light quickly returned to Christine's eyes as she beamed at him.

"I know," she answered. Erik was taken aback.

"You know?" he prompted.

"I knew you were an Angel as soon as I saw your face without that cloth wrapped around it. You don't look like other people do, and I knew you would get well in time to be my Angel." Erik drew in a breath, shocked. His face was completely uncovered these days, and he had assumed the damage was not as bad as Nurse Giry had initially suggested, for the little girl had not reacted in disgust or fright upon seeing him. He never thought there was anything more to her curious stares.

"Look," Christine rose and lightly stepped across the room, her pad of paper in hand. She held up her drawing, and he saw that it was a crude likeness of himself. He stared at the strange scribble she had scrawled over the right side of his face, and his fingers lightly touched the burned and twisted flesh there. What did he look like?

"You should enjoy Christmas," he said at last. "A child like you deserves to enjoy the holiday. It is a time of celebration of life, not of mourning. It is a time to express love to your neighbors. And it is a time of wonder and joy, especially for young ones." Christine tilted her head curiously. "Tell me child, do you know any Christmas carols?" She shook her head slowly, and he nodded. "Would you like me to teach you some?" Christine slowly nodded her head in affirmation. Erik took in a breath, and began to sing an old hymn he had learned from his mother. Christine leaned on the edge of his bed, utterly enraptured by his beautifully toned voice. Erik knew he possessed an unusual talent, and he adored music above anything else in his life.

Once he had completed the verse, he slowly helped Christine to repeat it. The child had quite a bit of potential in her high voice, and Erik nodded in approval. Christine enjoyed the session so much, she asked him to teach her something new every day. This was how they passed the days until Christmas came upon them.

On the day of the holiday, Christine skipped into the hospital room happily. Erik was sitting up in bed, reading, as he usually did to pass the time. He glanced up as the child entered the room, hopped over to her father's bed, and kissed the sleeping man as she always did. Then she whirled around to face Erik, her hands behind her back and a mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes. Erik raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered his book.

"Good afternoon, child," he greeted her, wondering why she was in such a mood. She smiled and politely dipped into a small curtsey.

"Good afternoon, Sir," she replied. "And Merry Christmas!" He smiled warmly at her, knowing just how difficult it must have been for her to release the pain of knowing she had lost her mother only a year ago.

"Merry Christmas," he answered softly.

"I brought you something!" she chimed excitedly. Erik's face showed an expression of surprise.

"Oh?" What on earth could the girl be thinking? She hopped over to his bed, and held out her hand. A string dangled from it, with a single, shining brass button hanging upon it. Erik reached out and she dropped the strange gift into his hand, never once loosing her excited smile.

"It is an Angel pendant!" she exclaimed. "Mama told me once that my guardian Angel would want to always have something of mine, so that he could always find me. So, since you are to become my Angel soon, I am giving you something of mine so you can always find me!" Erik felt tears burning his eyes at the sheer beauty in her innocence. He pulled the makeshift necklace about his neck, watching as her coat button settled to hang just over his heart.

"I shall wear it always," he said quietly. Her smile only grew.

"I love you, Angel," she chirped. Erik closed his eyes and wondered how he had ever managed to earn the love of such a wonderful child.

**A/N**: I suppose I ought to offer a bit of an explanation for the origin of this story. I have recently rediscovered my own Southern roots, and have begun studying the Civil War. The next logical step was to somehow combine this newfound interest with my current obsession, and thus an AU fic was created. I altered some ages around a bit… I know in several PoTO versions, Erik is more than 11 years older than Christine, but I didn't really want to do that in my story. I prefer to keep them closer in age. I have also played around with some names, trying to Americanize them, so that they don't all sound French.

Please let me know what you think so far, and tell me if you think this story is worth continuing. I believe I would like to continue it regardless, but initial reviews are always rather important to me. I don't claim to be a historian, so if inaccuracies appear, I apologize for them. Also, in regards to the progress of my other stories: "The Strength to Try" shall still be my most updated phic, and "Bound" is nearing it's conclusion. That story is quite slow moving, so I apologize for anyone waiting for me to update. I shall write on this story in between updates of "The Strength to Try".

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters or concepts from any version of The Phantom of the Opera. This disclaimer applies to all forthcoming chapters of this story.


	2. A Time of Mourning

**January, 1848**

The dawn of the new year brought many changes. Erik's health was continuing to return, the last remains of his strange feverish illness at last receding entirely. From what he had gathered from the local newspapers Nurse Giry would provide for him, Erik learned that the Mexican War was drawing to a close. It would not be long now before it ended, and for that, he felt considerable pride. The battle he had been wounded in, the battle for Mexico City had not been in vain. It was because of that battle that the war was now concluding.

He continued to read the newspaper quietly, not surprised when he heard Christine rustling about as she entered the room. The girl was ill at ease, and her usually delicate mannerisms were unsettled. She simply sat at her father's side and fidgeted, distractedly trying to draw a picture. Erik wondered what could have happened to upset the child, and decided to ask her about it later, if she chose to speak to him. As it was, it was probably best for him to let her alone for a time.

A nearly inhuman groan from the bed across the room shattered the silence. Erik snapped his attention to Captain Day, who was at last returning to consciousness.

"Daddy!" Christine leaned over her father's bed, sadness and joy forming an odd mix in her tone.

"Christine…." The man coughed out her name and reached a hand to touch his daughter's face. "My beautiful Christine. I dreamed of your face, darling."

"I've been here for a while now, Daddy." She had placed her small, pale hand over his, holding it to her cheek.

"There's something I must tell you, darling. I can't stay with you anymore. I'm afraid I have to go away, and this time, I won't be able to go back."

"But why?" Her high voice hitched as the tears began to well up in her impossibly large brown eyes.

"When I am in Heaven, child, I shall send an Angel to watch over you. You will never have to be alone, beloved. Never…" His voice trailed off and his hand fell slack upon the bed. Christine's breath came in shallow gasps as she could only hunch over her father's form and cry. Erik again felt his heart collapse for this girl, swearing again to himself to be everything she ever needed in life. His fingers drifted slowly to the small button that was still hanging about his neck, and again found himself fascinated by the aura of mystery that surrounded Christine Day. He maintained his silent vigil over the mourning child, until at last Anna Giry entered and slowly led her away. Christine did not raise her gaze as Nurse Giry firmly took her hand and towed her out of the hospital room. Erik felt deeply unsettled, his heart in pieces for the sake of the now orphaned little girl. As he felt the insistent shadows of sleep upon him, Erik made a mental note to interrogate Nurse Giry about the Day girl the next time he had a chance.

He was her Angel, after all.

Morning came, and Erik discovered that Captain Day's body was gone, replaced by that of another soldier. He was surprised to find that little Meg was in his room, something she had done less and less. At first, the girl had been drawn to his silent, sarcastic ways, but she had soon grown bored with him, as children do. But it was not Erik she was here to see this morning; she was perched upon the same stool Christine had so often settled upon to watch over the still form of her father.

"Meg?" Erik rasped her name softly, catching the girl's attention. Her face was a mixture of childish hope and fear.

"Mistah Black!" she replied, a quiver in her small voice. "This is my father! He's finally come back to me, just like he promised he would!" The four year old returned her attentions to the restlessly sleeping man before her. Erik felt his heart sink. Was he to bear witness to another sorrowful parting?

"Captain James Giry," Erik mused quietly. How strange circumstances had been. First, fate delivered Captain Day into the waiting arms of his daughter, and now Captain Giry was in the care of his devoted wife, being watched over by his own child. Erik knew this man. He had served under him, and fallen under his command, never once regretting his actions. Now he silently prayed that Captain Giry would survive whatever wound had placed him here.

Erik felt an immense tug of loneliness. He had written letters home on days when his health had allowed his vision to focus for a sustained period of time. His master, Mister Garner, had been one recipient of a letter, as well as his beloved Lucy. Garner had sent a reply, expressing relief that the boy had survived his stretch in the service, and also approval that Erik's duty was now complete and he would be returning to the shop instead of to the ranks. But there had been no word from Lucy, one of the few people in the world Erik loved.

Why hadn't she written?

There were not many souls in Augusta that Erik had ever grown fond of. He was certainly not the sort to make friends, which was part of the reason his odd bond with Anna Giry intrigued him so. There was no denying that he was eternally grateful to the woman for saving his life, and he had soon grown to value her company and strange, cold mannerisms.

And Christine Day… He felt an overpowering responsibility to the orphaned little girl. He knew what it felt like to have a beloved parent ripped away by the unrelenting hands of death. And he desperately wished to relieve the delicate child of suffering through the brutal knowledge that she was alone. She had chosen him to be her Angel, and that was precisely what he planned to do.

Captain James passed in and out of consciousness, which detracted from Erik's feelings of the loneliness that often settles upon those confined to a hospital. Although Erik was now allowed to walk about for short periods of time each day, he still spent most of his waking hours in that small room. Christine no longer came by, a fact that did not set well with him. He was grateful for the company of his commanding officer, someone he had considerable respect for.

Anna Giry was also present more often than usual, which gave Erik an opportunity to inquire after the fate of Christine Day. Nurse Giry had spoken to both Erik and James about her, deciding that she would take the girl in as her own. Her husband was perfectly agreeable to the idea, which made Erik's heart sink. The Girys lived in Mississippi, supported by the newly growing military career of the Captain. If he survived his time in the hospital, the young man would undoubtedly receive a promotion in rank, and pay. Erik had fallen silent on the issue, fully aware of the fact that it would be absurd to request guardianship over her. He was far too young, and he could only wonder how Lucy would feel about such a thing.

On January 17th, Christine stopped by to visit. It had been a dreary morning, and the condition of Captain James was rapidly deteriorating. It seemed he had caught a chill which was taking a heavy toll upon his already damaged body. Erik had been in a particularly bleak mood upon receiving a letter from Mister Garner, informing him that Lucy too had fallen ill. It was the winter months, and such illness were not uncommon, but the news still weighed heavily upon Erik's spirits.

"Angel?" Christine's small voice tugged Erik out of his despairing thoughts. He turned quickly to face the small child, considerably paler than she had been when he saw her last. The girl was still dressed in black, mourning the loss of her father.

"Hello, child," Erik offered her a small smile, the first that had crossed his lips in quite a while. She dropped into a slight curtsey and crawled up into the chair beside him.

"When are you going to get better?" Her look was so forlorn that Erik's breath caught in his chest.

"I am improving every day," he replied, uncertain as to what warranted the desolation in her manner. "Nurse Giry tells me I should be able to leave within the next few weeks."

"You _will_ stay with me, won't you?" Christine's musical voice held such a wrenching plea in it that Erik felt the sting of tears in his eyes. How this pure creature must have suffered! Her pain only drew out the memories of his own sorrows long past, and his unbreakable resolve to save her from the same fate.

"Of course, child." He tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

"Even if I am taken away from here? If I am taken to be with the Girys?" So that was it. Christine's worries were the same as his own. He knew then. Erik knew that there was no going back on his word now. He would withdraw from his home, leave Georgia behind to seek a job in Mississippi. He would begin a new life if he could be with this child. Perhaps this would be a perfect opportunity. Lucy had always dreamed of starting a new life, and perhaps he would propose to her, and they could begin living their dream.

"I will always be able to find you." He gently pulled the strung brass button from beneath his dim white shirt. "You gave me an Angel Pendant for just such a purpose, did you not?" Christine nodded slowly, and the light began to filter back into her demeanor.

"Angel?"

"Yes, child?" Erik wasn't too sure he would ever be used to the title of angel…

"Will you sing for me?" The request took him by surprise. Yes, he had a deep passion for music, but he was quite unused to singing for an audience.

"Of course," he replied, not betraying the uncertainty that quivered just below the surface. Closing his eyes for a moment, Erik began to sing a beautiful hymn for the girl he had sworn to himself to protect.

A few days later, Captain Giry passed away. Little Meg was not present, so Erik was spared the heartbreak of witnessing another child eternally parted from her beloved father. However, Nurse Giry had been there to say farewell, which was possibly even harder to observe. The woman looked regal, even as the tears fell, and no words passed through the sorrow that almost tangibly cloaked the air.

**February, 1848**

"Congratulations, Erik. I am certifying you well enough to be released this afternoon." The news came as a welcome statement for the soul weary Erik Black. He had certainly seen his fill of hospital life, and was more than ready to move on with life. His spirits were soaring with the knowledge he had obtained this day.

"My lady, have you seen the newspapers today?" Erik had an unusual glint in his cloudy blue eyes as he shrugged his army jacket on in preparation to abandon the room he had so long occupied.

"I have not. Why?" Much of the light had fallen from her eyes, and she looked to be 60 years old instead of 24. The death of her husband had aged her nearly beyond recognition. Her family's well being and stability had rested upon her now deceased husband, and it was dubious her temporary position at the hospital would support two children and herself.

"The war has ended, ma'am." Erik offered her a boyish smile, filled with pride that he had contributed to their victory.

"I see," her reaction was one of distant detachment, and Erik's raised an eyebrow in slight confusion. He had not expected her to act with a relieved sort of pride, as he had, but he did not anticipate such a cold response.

"What's the matter?" In the three months he had spent under her care, Erik had at last grown to read her strange mannerisms. He knew that there was something dark eating at her.

"It explains why my position is being terminated."

"What?" While Erik had always known that Nurse Giry intended to return home upon the conclusion of the war, he had expected the death of her husband to alter her plans. Captain James had been the significant provider for their small family, and now that he was gone, and her position terminated… what was to become of her?

"I was only hired as temporary help while the war was on. This hospital is one of the finest in Texas, but if the soldiers shall be on their way home, then I too shall be sent home. Only…" She drew in a deep breath, and Erik was able to grasp her meaning.

"Do you still have a home, ma'am?" He asked the question softly, crossing the distance between them in a few steps. Although he had not quite filled out yet, Erik was still considerably taller than the nurse and his dark form nearly towered over her.

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. "And to be perfectly honest, I don't know if I can return to that place without him."

"Come to Georgia with me." The words slipped out of his mouth before Erik even had the chance to reconsider them. He was not normally quite so rash as to ask such an impulsive thing.

"What?" Nurse Giry offered him a look of confusion, regarding his request as utter foolishness. Erik felt a flush rising to his cheeks in embarrassment. He had already started the conversation; he might as well follow it through.

"What do you have waiting for you in Mississippi, ma'am? Your husband made the military a career. You don't even have a farm to go back to. It simply would not do for you to be surviving in the world all alone, with two children, without someone to… to watch over you."

"Erik Black! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, sir, and in fact, I am capable of taking care of _you_, as well. Don't you think for one moment that I…" Erik merely raised a hand to silence her, shaking his head in protest to her offended outburst.

"That is certainly not what I meant. I do not doubt your ability to provide for yourself, I just question the wisdom of doing so without… without a friend to assist you. I am a carpenter's apprentice back home, and I also work in music when time allows me. The man who runs the shop I work in, Mistah Garner, has been looking for a respectable person to run his store front. I think you might be that respectable woman, ma'am." Anna Giry fell silent for a long moment, her hands clenched in front of her starched white apron.

"You realize I would be taking the children, Christine and Meg, with me?"

"I am aware of that, ma'am." In fact, he had nearly been counting on it. This way, he would still be able to watch over Christine from a distance, while Mrs. Giry could see to her proper upbringing.

"And where would we stay?" The ghost of a smile played across the boy's lips as he felt her agreement hanging in the air, just a whisper out of reach.

"You may stay in my home for as long as you wish. It is quite small, so I shall vacate it for the use of yourself and the girls."

"And where would you stay?"

"I can simply sleep in the shop, ma'am." In truth, that was what he usually wound up doing anyway. There were several bed frames under construction in the shop at any given time, and Erik had simply transferred an old mattress to one of the extras, using it as his own on the nights he worked late. Indeed, he did not need much sleep when his health was in prime condition. Erik was quite fond of the night, and he found he worked better in the darkness. There were fewer distractions after the sun went down.

"Erik, I don't know…" She looked terribly uncertain, a strange look for the usually assertive and commanding nurse.

"There are other vacant jobs in the town you could acquire if the shop front business is not to your liking. It is a fresh start for you, ma'am. And besides, I believe it would be a very good thing for the girls as well. I was orphaned at a young age, and I believe a change of scenery might have assisted me in the healing process."

"I shall loose my position here by the end of the week," her words were carefully measured. "I will inform you of my decision then." Erik nodded at her, his eyes still twinkling. He knew she would come with him, and that would enable him to keep his promise to himself and to that child, to Christine. She had been promised an angel, and he had every intention of allowing that promise to be fulfilled.

Erik checked into a hotel for the remainder of the week, awaiting Anna Giry's decision. He found himself quite surprised by the startled expressions he received from the people in the outside world. So many stares were cast in his direction, and he found himself quickly growing self conscious. What on earth could they be staring at? It wasn't until he reached his room that he recalled the reason he had been hospitalized in the first place. His face! What did it look like? What on earth could have scarred his face badly enough to earn such pitiable stares?

He quickly made his way to the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom, and for the first time in months, viewed himself in the mirror. What he saw made his blood run cold, seeming to solidify in a sickeningly icy state.

He was hideous.

The left side of his face was still perfect, unharmed. But the right… The right side of his face had been burned beyond recognition. He scarcely looked human! Just above his mouth, the flesh had been twisted and scorched in a repulsive mass of veins and skin. He no longer possessed an eyebrow, and the damage extended up to even his forehead. It was rough and callous to the touch, discolored and truly disturbing to look upon.

The only thing that remained intact was his jet black hair, which had grown shaggy and long from his duration in the hospital. He felt despair overcome him as he staggered away from the mirror in disgust. Hideous! He had been maimed beyond all recognition! Understanding struck him as he recalled Nurse Giry's insistence he had not seen his own condition. To be aware of the extent of the damage would have destroyed his spirits completely.

His poor, darling Lucy.

The fiery young lady certainly did not deserve someone so brutally distorted. Still, she had vowed her love to him, despite her extended silence, which Erik had reasoned was due to her illness. She loved him, so perhaps she would still love him through his mangled appearance. Erik had sank to the floor in shock and despair upon seeing his appearance, but a new sort of light shed in his mind. At the very least, he could take pride in the fact he had obtained one of the highest sorts of honor – he had been wounded in the line of duty for his country.

Erik spent much of his time in the following week outdoors. The startled stares he continued to receive from the inhabitants of the medium sized town began to unnerve him, and he began contemplating possible solutions to the problem of his newly acquired deformity. Surely there must be some way to lessen the hideous mix of horror and pity that crossed the faces of those who saw him. With this in mind, he explored the town he had so long resided in. Perhaps there was something…

He came across a curious display in one of the roadside windows. An array of masks were arranged behind the glass, staring out without ever seeing those who passed by. A mask? The idea struck Erik as quite strange, but not entirely out of the question. After all, if he was going to be gawked at, he would prefer it be out of curiosity rather than pity and disgust. It was all he could do to quietly tolerate the silent attention he had been receiving, and perhaps a mask would alleviate some of the undesired effects of his scarring.

Drawing in a deep breath, Erik gathered his resolve and entered the small store. He discussed his situation with the shop's owner, and at last made a purchase. The mask he chose was white porcelain, one that the creator insisted would best suit him if he planned to wear it for long periods of time. He said it would be rather uncomfortable at first, but he would soon get used to the unfamiliar feeling.

And so it was that Erik donned a white, half mask to hide his marred face.

**March, 1848**

Erik Black was flooded with relief upon re-entering his native state. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed his home until the moment he stepped off the train and breathed the sweet scent of pine. He was home – he was in Georgia. Erik cast a sidelong glance at the lady edging her children along in front of her, urging them to exit in a ladylike manner.

Anna Giry had made the only logical choice she could make. At the end of the week, she had announced that she would agree to take Erik up on his offer. She had remained in Texas long enough to compose several letters to set her affairs in order, and Erik had been summoned for several lingering military issues. He was informed that he would receive a status of elevated rank should he choose to enlist once more.

Now, at the beginning of a new month, Anna and Meg Giry, Christine Day, and Erik Black had journeyed to Georgia. He only hoped that Mister Garner would accept his proposal and hire Mrs. Giry, otherwise, she would seek a position in the local clinic. Meg had been withdrawn, quite a bit of her curiosity had drained from the four year old's nature when her father died. She was young yet. Erik had faith that she would rebound, especially once she allowed herself to get wrapped up in the excitement of a new home.

Christine was quiet by nature, but her eyes retained that peculiar shine. She was saddened, and not quite as energetic as she had once been, but she devotedly hung on Erik's every word, fully believing him to be a heavenly being. He felt a twinge of guilt at allowing the child to believe such nonsense, but he saw no other way to attempt to still some of the pain she suffered from.

Erik's heart soared when he saw a certain fiery red head waiting at the station. Lucy. She had received his letters after all, and now she had come out to meet him upon his arrival. She was the only familiar face Erik spotted, but hers was the most welcome of any he could think of. Erik set the luggage down and quickly took his sweetheart into his arms, swinging her above her head with a joy filled laugh.

"Lucy!" he exclaimed as he swirled her about, her dress billowing below her like the petals of some strange petals. She returned his enthusiasm, although her face was drawn in curiosity. "I cannot tell you how I missed you," he lowered her and spoke into her hair, scarcely believing that he was truly able to see her again.

"I am just so thankful you survived," she replied. Erik pulled her away at arm's length just to see her again, to take in her sweet features. She was slightly younger than he, only just 15 as of several weeks ago. Her face retained a youthful shine, such a beauty that she could have won the heart of any individual in Augusta had she been so inclined. And she had chosen him. "But Erik, what is this?" She reached a hand up to the cold porcelain of his mask, and Erik inwardly flinched.

"I told you I was wounded," he said uncertainly. He hated to ruin their happy reunion with the reality of his horrific face.

"Let me see," she said quietly, tightening her fingers around the edge of his mask. Erik's heart began racing, although he did not stop her. When she pulled it away, her face paled. Her hand trembled and she let the white mask slide out of her grasp to the concrete below. It did not shatter, only clamored upon contact. "Oh Erik!" She gasped as her hands flew to cover her mouth. Lucy slowly began shaking her head, and she backed away slowly.

The emotion of the moment was so overwhelming that neither party noticed the approach of the out of control carriage clattering across the cobblestone street. Lucy only had time to look up in alarm before she fell victim to the weight of two frightened horses.

**A/N**: So that was chapter two… Kind of sad because a bunch of people died in it. Yikes. I'm not used to writing so many deaths in one chapter, but it had to be done in order to progress the story. Yes, I'm taking things slowly, because I do plan to attempt to retell the entire PoTO theme as I go. Also… can anyone tell me what someone would have been promoted to after private back in the Civil War days? I tried doing a google search but didn't get much success. I might just have to stretch things a bit and give him some random rank I know existed if I can't figure out the next logical step. (Hey, I'm still in the process of studying my War of the States history.) One more thing… I like reviews. So please leave me some!

**cookies-will-invade**: Yeah, Lucy represents Luciana. Hence, she kind of suffered a similar fate. Thank you for the encouragement, and I hope I've prevented your promised disaster. ;)

**Reylan**: I'll have to look into that book. Right now, I'm reading a novelization of the war by Shelby Foote, and it's rather interesting. And yes, I will definitely keep this one going.

**Jinxed4Ever**: Woo! I'm happy I didn't make any errors! I'm trying to improve my grammatical skills. Thank you for your comments, and I do plan to update somewhat regularly.

**PhantomsHeart**: You. Freakin. Rock. Have I mentioned that enough times in my other story? I, like you, am usually quite skeptical of AU fics. In fact, I've never actually read one. So it really is quite odd that I am writing one of my own, but I'm happy you've decided to give mine a chance. I'm trying my best, and please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve. I shall miss you when you are away!

**beth**: thank you! I am going to continue it, and I'm happy you reviewed.

**Songwind**: Thanks much for reading! I want to say again, I absolutely LOVE your stories, and I'm happy you liked this one. Like you, I think that Erik and Christine deserve a few sweet moments before things really start getting underway, so I wanted to include a few. Thank you for the review, and I'll update soon if you do. ;)

**thephantompenguin**: Yeah, I guess it is kind of an odd twist. But I'm glad you liked it!

**Thanks to my reviewers, and to everyone who's reading! **


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